Day 27. Year 5.

Well, now the flood gates are open. ;) Get ready.

Home-bound in the Netherlands. Part 2.

I could write for hours and hours about our experiences in the Netherlands. But I'm pretty sure you would get sick of reading about it. ;) Let me try to pick out the highlights. Or the low-lights. However you want to look at it.

Traveling with kids can be a nightmare no matter if the child has autism or not. Right? I was having all of the same nervous feelings that everyone else gets when you are taking your kids on a plane for the first time. In a confined space. With nowhere to escape to. But on top of that, having a child with autism can present very tricky and unique challenges. From making sure her project lifesaver band wouldn't set off the alarms at security, to trying to figure out how to configure Vicki's schedule so she knew that bedtime was going to be on the plane, to making sure we had all of her medicine packaged correctly. Routines and rituals are key to Vicki getting through her day. Change is not usually our friend. Picture me and Vicki in the airplane bathroom trying to put Vicki's pj's on. That should give you a chuckle. And now let's add on jet lag once we got off of the 8 hour overnight flight.. Yippi!!!

We tried to plan for everything. We thought about every scenario and tried to come up with solutions. But you can't plan for everything. Sigh.

So, obviously one of the most difficult aspects of this travel would be transitions for Vicki. Right?The whole reason we went to the Netherlands in the first place was because she was having such significant issues and I was unable to get her out of our van at home.  And I minimize other issues that we were having at home. It wasn't just getting out of the van. Globally things are affected. The difference is, we learn how to work around them at home to a certain extent. Anyway. This was the first time ever that Vicki didn't travel somewhere in our red van. So, we knew that renting a car would have it's share of difficulties. I am going to try to make light of the situation, but know that this is just a coping mechanism for me. In reality it was heartbreaking to watch and to be a part of.

We made it through the plane ride that had a barking dog a few rows in front of us (you know that Vicki, at this time, had so much anxiety over dogs). It could have been a disaster. But even though she heard the dog and was looking around, and squeezing daddy's hand tightly, the dog fell asleep and we made it through the flight. Phew. Now we get off the plane (which by the way, Vicki loved!!! I knew she would. She loves roller coasters. She loves going fast. Her face when we took off and landed. It was priceless.) She loved the plane so much that she wouldn't get off of it. I was waiting after we got off the plane with a very sleepy Joe and Ally in the terminal. No Daddy. No Vicki. No Daddy. No Vicki. Oh my gosh, what if we can't get her off the plane?? But he did. Finally. And we navigate the indoor subway thingy and get to our rental car place in the airport. A black Audi. Oh my goodness. Could not get further away from our red Dodge Caravan. Holy moly. All 3 kids in the backseat. Putting all of our luggage in that tiny trunk. Can you imagine?

This was the start of not good stuff. We knew it would be difficult for Vicki to get into a rental car. But we completely underestimated just how difficult it would be. 5 jet-lagged, exhausted people. And a little girl who just wouldn't get in the Audi. Not at all. We were parked right in front of the customer service booth thing. And we spent no less than an hour and half trying to get Vicki into the car. Everyone was watching. Everyone was glancing our way. We had tried doing different colored cars on Vicki's visual schedule. First/then scenarios. Oh gosh, we tried so much stuff. And nothing was working. Folding a 5'6" girl into the back of an Audi that was packed with other kids and luggage. I can't even describe it. The panic that I was feeling. Oh my God. What if we can't get her in this car? What are we going to do? We are in a foreign country. Oh my God. Vicki knows how to brace herself when she doesn't want to do something. I swear she grows extra arms. It's like there are hands and feet everywhere. It's actually really hard for me to talk about. I don't want it to sound like we are hurting Vicki. Because we aren't. But the strategic placement that Vicki has for bracing herself. It's almost impossible to break. Eventually we knew we had to do something. We couldn't sit there forever. It took Daddy, and myself and Joe and Ally. It took everything we had to get her safely in the car. We had to all work together, pin arms down, hold her. God, I know I keep saying this. But I can't even describe it fully. I don't want to . And Ally and Joe had to endure this. Then once we got her in the car it took every bit of energy we had to keep her arms and legs in so we could shut the door. And trying to get the seat belt on her. It was no easy task. I will move on now. So we are driving in the rain in The Netherlands, on roads we don't know, signs we can't read, a language we don't understand, exhausted and tired, with Vicki screaming the whole drive. And then once we got to the apartment we rented, we couldn't get Vicki out of the car. We couldn't get her in at the airport and now we couldn't get her out. And so it began.

Anytime anyone travels, no matter who it is, there is always an adjustment period. It takes time to develop a new routine, put your stuff in a new place. No different for us. And it takes a bit longer for Vicki. To sum it up... Vicki had a hard time. Way more than usual. We knew it would be difficult, because we were already struggling in our home environment that was comfortable for Vicki. Now lets add a different country. I completely underestimated the time change and the effect it would have on Vicki. Did you know that the sun didn't set until almost 10, 11 at night? And it was out by like 5 in the morning? This year Vicki has struggled more than usual with time. And this was awful. She wasn't sleeping. She couldn't take her eyes off the sky. And she was having so much difficulty transitioning within the apartment. So here we were in The Netherlands. And it was taking me 2 hours to get Vicki to stand up and get in the shower. She wouldn't move freely within the apartment. She found one seat on the couch and stayed there the whole day. Thank goodness for color wonder Frozen books. They seemed to help calm her quite a bit. And thank goodness for Air B and B and the owner of the apartment who gave us access to his Netflix account. So Ally and Joe got to watch movies on the big screen TV. We stayed in a cute little town only a few miles from the beach. There was a little canal behind our apartment building. It would have been so fun to explore the town on foot with the kids while Daddy was at work during the day. But we couldn't. So here we were. Home-bound in The Netherlands. Trapped in a vicious cycle for Vicki. It took everything I had to get Vicki showered and dressed by the time Daddy came home from work. All day long. Sitting in the apartment in The Netherlands. Waiting for Daddy to come back to us. I felt trapped. I felt sad. I felt like a failure.

I know this is going to sound horrible. But we did this. We chose to come to the Netherlands with Daddy because we knew that whatever Vicki was struggling with, it was better to face it together as a family. We spent money we didn't have. We added stress we didn't need. But, hot damn, we were in The Netherlands. And autism was not going to completely take this opportunity away from us. Autism was not going to keep us prisoner in this apartment. So we chose the struggles. We knew what we were facing. But we sat in the apartment all day waiting for Daddy to come home. By golly we were going to have the Netherlands experience. We were going to eat pancakes. We were going to check out a windmill. We were going to buy some cheese.

So we did. And every transition brought so much anxiety for Vicki and for our entire family. Some days she would jump right into the backseat of the car with a smile on her face, ready for the adventure that lies ahead. Other days it took an hour to physically get Vicki into the car. Some days she would jump out of the car and smile and hold Daddy's hand as we walked. Other days it took hours. We never knew what we were going to encounter until it happened. The fear. It's so real. Every time Joe and Ally got into the car they felt it too. And every time we chose to stop somewhere, to explore something... the fear was there. Will we be able to get Vicki into the car? Will we be able to get Vicki out of the car? Adrenaline played a huge role in our experiences on this trip. We did things we did because we had to . We fought things because we had to. I know that sounds so mean and horrible.

And here's the meat of it. Let me describe a scene to you. You see a 13 year old beautiful young lady (yes, I am bragging on my Vicki, mom bias). . And you see a 40 something adult male trying to get said 13 year old beautiful young girl into a car. Physically. And you see this beautiful young girl bracing herself and her body against the outside of the car. Trying everything she can do to not get into the vehicle. She is anxious. She is fearful.  And you hear her screaming. "Let go with me. Ouch. Stop. Wait a minute."Over and over.  I am crying as I type this out. What do you see? What do you envision? Exactly.

And that's it in a nutshell.

How do you get through this? A young girl who looks 'normal', I cringe as I write this. Sorry. And sounds like she is saying all of the right words I would want my daughter to say if someone were trying to abduct her. The shear fear that we had. HAVE still to this day (post number 3 will be coming). I can not tell you how petrified I was in a foreign country with this new behavior. Having trouble getting out of our van was one thing, but having trouble getting into a vehicle poses a whole slew of new difficulties. And we never knew when it was going to happen. It's unbelievable to me that although Vicki doesn't have a lot of verbal communication, that she can yell these words at the 'right' time. It broke my heart. So that's it. Every time we tried to go and do something, go eat, go see something.... we just never knew.

We tried so many different things. I made sure that I was standing by my husband when he was getting Vicki into the car. And you could see that we had other family members in the car with us. But still. The thought crossed my mind that the police would be called and my husband would be arrested. I don't know what it speaks to for society that no one said anything at all to us while we were in the Netherlands. Of course I am relieved about that. But still... to see a struggle, sometimes for hours on end, and to hear a young girl yelling, and to not know the medical circumstances surrounding it.... I don't know.

There was even one day that we just couldn't fight it. So my husband drove Joe and Ally to something nearby and I stood outside on the sidewalk with Vicki. We were hoping against all hope that something would click inside of Vicki... that whatever switch we needed to flip would happen when she saw that she wasn't getting in the car. Sometimes we try to manipulate her OCD and the things that she comes to expect. I know that sounds horrible. But sometimes we are desperate. In Vicki's mind it's Joey, Vicki, Ally, Mommy and Daddy. So if she sees its not all of us... maybe it will bother her. So we stood on the sidewalk, me and Vicki, in the wind, waiting for Daddy to come back with Joey and Ally. We stood for about 30 minutes. And Vicki kept looking at all of the black cars. And she was crying. It was awful. And then they pulled up again. And with every fiber of my being I prayed that it would work and Vicki would get into the car. And she did. But what if she didn't that time? What would we have done? It was a place where we weren't comfortable physically putting her in the car. I know by now you probably thing we are monsters. And sometimes I feel that way myself. But we have to live life. We have to all live life together.

And there were moments. There were amazing, beautiful moments that we experienced. That with the passage of time I am smiling more at. Vicki ate some amazing food. I really feel like she starting getting over her fear of animals over there. We walked a lot... because driving was so difficult. And there were so many dogs walking. Vicki even asked to ride in a horse and carriage ride on the day we went to Belgium. Oh my goddness the smile she wore on her face and the squeals of delight as we trotted through the cobblestone streets. I will never forget it.

We had moments. We sat outside in one of those huge squares... where you people watch and see beautiful buildings and sites... We ate. My husband and I had a glass of wine. But you know what I still remember about that moment? The hour of moments that we spent in the restaurant's tiny, tiny bathroom right before that. You think a bathroom on an airplane is tiny? This restaurant was even worse And it was so hot and claustrophobic in there. And Vicki's anxiety was so bad. All throughout this trip she started developing patterns and rituals she had to do... Like asking to go potty. Everywhere. When she didn't really have to. But we would stop. And then in this small cramped bathroom Vicki would take off her bottoms... and throw everything on the floor... and sit. And yell. And say, 'make yellow'. But she wouldn't pee. She didn't have to. But she had to because she made herself have to. You know? And there was a line of people that wanted to use the restroom and I couldn't get Vicki to stand up. And I was crying. And Vicki was yelling and she was so distraught. And Ally and Joe were sitting outside in the square waiting for us. And then my husband came back. 3 of us in the tiny bathroom trying to get Vicki's clothes back on her and stand her up. It was beyond awful. And then she kept yelling that she had to go potty and we were so afraid to take her anywhere else. And those are the moments that stick out to me. Still.

The fear. The anxiety. The not knowing if your child would be able to get into the car or not. That's what our trip to the Netherlands was. That's why we were 'Home-bound in the Netherlands'. Thank you so much for going on this journey with me. I really needed it. And I will finish up with my trilogy this evening. Sorry for posting so much right now. I love you all. xoxo

Oh, and ps... the question that I asked myself after it was all over. Knowing now the things we experienced over there, would I choose to do it all again? And the answer.... simply. Yes. I would. Because we will not let Vicki or our family become a prisoner to autism. We are stronger together. The moments. They were worth it. I know that now.